


Within This Universe

by Queen_Of_This_Ship, The_Transformers_of_Cybertron



Series: Lost Hope [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alt Modes, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Transformers, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Forgive me for I have sinned, Good plot?, How Do I Tag, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, Love this babs please, Multi, Plot Twists, The Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye (IDW) AU, The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye (IDW), Transformer Sparklings, Transformers Spark Bonds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-01-24 05:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Of_This_Ship/pseuds/Queen_Of_This_Ship, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Transformers_of_Cybertron/pseuds/The_Transformers_of_Cybertron
Summary: TreadFlex thought he had it all figured out. Thought running from the past would fix things. But when as he suddenly finds himself in an important position, everything he knew crumbles. Now he is traveling within the universe, searching for answers. Who was he? What is his purpose as a Prime? And why does everything seem so fuzzy?





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing the speedster saw was sparks erupting from a mangled machine, the distant sound of static filled his audio receptors. His helm pounded, static crackling in his receptors, and his optics were quick to search around. Chunks of a broken wall laid all around him, a faint, flickering light illuminated them enough for him to know what it was. Further down, he could see another light waving violently. His helm throbbed as tried to figure out what it was.

His frame ached as he attempted to move. His vision blurred as lifted himself, propping his weight onto his shaking limbs. Dazed, the mech turned his helm to the wreckage that laid before him.

There were scattered batches of flames, dancing wildly on what was fueling them. Groaning, his let his vision restore itself, making him see what had happened 

_An explosion_. The conclusion seemed plausible judging by the damage of the hallway. 

Shifting, TreadFlex stumbled to his peds, his body swaying as his plating moved in odd, painful angles as he moved. His optics flickered, and he looked down to his aching legs, seeing that the plating had been ripped away, or melted, or something as he could only see bits and pieces. He could tell he was in rough shape. A moment later, warnings of his injuries flashed on his HUD confirming his self-diagnosis, but he dismissed them. Taking a shaky few steps, TreadFlex wondered what even happened. A faint memory hit him and immediately his emotions when through the roof. 

_Trooper._ The name sent the injured mech searching frantically for his friend — his _amica._  He remembered the panicked voice of the glitched mech calling him for help.

TreadFlex had gone to help his trapped amica, but he took only a few steps when a wave of heat knocked him down.

He searched the debris for any sign of his small amica, but to no avail. He searched within his spark, reaching out to his friend hoping for a response. And to his relief, he could feel Trooper respond.

“TreadFlex!”

Hearing his designation, the red mech turned his helm toward the voices. A familiar small speedster, followed by his medic friend came rushing down the hallway. His spark raced as he realized that he may have not been the only one — besides Trooper — the blast had injured.

“Primus!” Ratchet looked surprised. “How are you still standing?”

Smiling dumbly, he responded. “Uh, adrenaline?”

What he said was probably partly true as he had no real reason to be standing, especially when the warnings on his HUD were screaming at him. Though the comeback was enough to make the medic scowl at him and the red speedster did not regret saying anything.

“You should not be standing!” Ratchet spat.

TreadFlex’s audio receptors crackled as the medic went on about some medical terminology he did not understand. He could barely make out Ratchet was saying as his hearing was shorting out. He paid no attention to it, glad to not be able to hear for the moment. His blue optics shifted to Drift, his gaze briefly catching the speedsters, before Drift’s attention focused on something else. 

A servo caught his attention and TreadFlex turned his helm to look at Ratchet again. The medic had a relativity surprised look as TreadFlex gave him an _'I can’t hear you’_ sort of look and the ambulance was quick to get Drift’s attention. He barely had time to even know what was happening before he was being led down the hallway by the both of them. TreadFlex didn‘t argue, he knew he wouldn’t be able to, anyway. 

In a matter of what seemed like a few seconds, the red speedster found himself in the medbay and forced to lie down on a berth. He didn‘t fight, just did as he was supposed to do. The crackle in his receptors had he looking over as he could hear one of the many medics, First Aid call for help as the mech came rushing over. The red speedster wanted to tell him he was all right, but when felt himself tense up and saw the warnings of shutdown, his processor went blank his frame seized, thrashing wildly.

It all happened so fast because the next thing the speedster knew was that everything went black.

 
    
    
    ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

 

“I feel him!”

Perceptor blinked in confusion as Drift sprinted past him. The red mech glanced at his partner, Brainstorm, who also seemed just as confused. The two scientists had stopped their cleanup and the making of their list when Rung was in pursuit of the white speedster. It was odd to see the skinny orange mech following Drift of all mechs.

“Should we follow?” Brainstorm questioned.

Perceptor thought the following would attract unwanted attention, but Drift seemed so worked up about something and it was hard to ignore it.

“It may be important,” Perceptor answered, moving to abandon his project.

The two were quick to sprint after Drift and Rung, catching up to them easily. The usually calm speedster was wild and seemed unsure of what he was even doing. He stopped at every hallway intersection they came across and made a mad dash into another hallway. Perceptor really wondered if he and Brainstorm should’ve left their cleaning duties, but he held onto his hope that Drift knew something was up.

_The ship was nearly torn apart from a blast._ Perceptor recalled. He and Brainstorm were nowhere near the estimated blast range, but he had seen multiple injured bots from both sections of the ship, Rodimus’ side, and Getaways side. Brainstorm had theorized that one of Getaway‘s bots had detonated a bomb. It was likely. Both sides of the ship were in this constant war and it was about time someone ended it.

“Drift, slow down!”

Rung‘s worried voice snapped Perceptor out of his thoughts and he looked to the frantic white mech.

“I have to find him! I can feel him!” Drift shouted as he ducked into a damaged hall.

Rung gave a worried gasp and moved to follow. 

“What’s up with him?” Brainstorm questioned as he followed behind Rung.

“It’s Rodimus,” Rung answered, turning to them briefly before he moved to climb over the fallen debris. “Drift is looking for him, says he can feel him within the ship.”

It all made sense now.

The three mechs grew silent as they maneuvered over and under the remains of the ship's halls, following Drift towards the bridge. Perceptor didn’t find their new location surprising. Rodimus had barely left his chair since his change of color scheme. But, he had to admit, the grimly lit room and nothing but body parts, debris, and flames had him on edge. 

“Oh, Primus,” Rung breathed, turning his helm at the sight.

Perceptor’s own gaze shifted to the charred remains of the bridge, quickly concluding that the start of the attack came from this room. He didn’t like to think about the pain that most of the mech’s here felt, he just hoped that they were safe in the Afterspark. The three mechs stood in silence, their optics searching the mess for any mechs that were still alive, though Perceptor knew that there was nothing there for them.

Turning his optics to Drift, Perceptor could see the white speedster crouching. The red scientist then padded to him, his optics widening. In Drift‘s arms was the limp frame of Rodimus Prime. Perceptor’s systems flooded with shock as he stood there, not knowing what to do. Rung and Brainstorm eventually took his side, the two mechs silent as they let Drift have a moment with his now deceased friend.

The silence didn’t last long as Drift’s helm lifted, the look of uncertainty flickering in his optics. Perceptor took a step back when Drift placed the Prime down and stood, his optics following something.

“Drift..?” Rung questioned carefully.

“I can still feel him. 

Brainstorm was quick to chime in. “That’s impossible, he’s-”

“He’s still _here_.” Drift snapped his helm at Brainstorm, his optics flaring.

Brainstorm immediately back up, his servos raised in surrender.

“Are you sure?” Rung questioned gently.

Drift nodded and without another word, he took off, Rung hot on his heels. Perceptor and Brainstorm looked at each other.

“This is important,” Perceptor told him when Brainstorm looked as if he would suggest they get back to work.

Brainstorm gave him an uncertain look but gestured for him to lead the way.


	2. Chapter 2

Gasping, TreadFlex’s optics shot open and his body sat up. Almost immediately, a crackle of pain rippled up his back plates, followed by his frame shaking, and the speedster groaned. Servos were on him in a second, forcing him back onto the berth. Ratchet was quick to hover over him, a worried look plastered all over his faceplates; an odd expression for the medic to make, especially for someone like him.

“Can you hear me?” Ratchet questioned.

Not trusting his voice, TreadFlex gave him a simple nod of his helm.

“Good, now listen to what I have to say,” the medic‘s tone was serious. “If you so much as lift a servo, your systems will blow and you will go offline.”

His frame rattled and TreadFlex was uncertain if it was in agreement or in denial. The speedster was silent as Ratchet had plugged himself in, doing whatever medics did. Resetting his vocalizer the best he could, he turned his helm to the medic.

“What’s wrong with me, doc?” He asked.

Ratchet’s gaze flickered to him, a pissed off look formed in his optics. TreadFlex expected the medic to smack him upside the helm, but other than the pissed off look, TreadFlex could see that Ratchet still seemed worried.

“That blast hit you pretty good,” Ratchet started, “It almost took your legs and melted most of your back.”

_Was that why Ratchet was so surprised and angry when he saw me?_ TreadFlex pondered.

“You seized the moment we had you on the berth,” Ratchet continued, “Your systems went in shock. You are one lucky mech, TreadFlex. You could’ve been offlined permanently. I did what I could to repair the damage, but you’re still at risk of blowing a fuse.”

“So no moving got it.” TreadFlex gave a rumble as his optics shifted about the room.

He looked to the bots that he could see on the berths. He recognized some of Getaways bots, but he honestly didn’t care for them. He was looking for his amica.

“Ratchet, where Trooper?”

Ratchet looked up from his datapad, his blue optics narrowed again.

“He’s out helping to clean the ship.”

TreadFlex felt relieved to hear that Trooper wasn’t too badly injured. He could feel Trooper on the other end of his bond. He could feel the mech working hard.

“I take it his injuries were not bad.”

Ratchet snorted. 

“He wasn’t in the estimated blast range like you were,” he said, “his injuries were minor.”

TreadFlex let out a sigh, tilting his somewhat as his optics focused on the medical port that Ratchet was still plugged into.

“How long does it take to run a scan?” He asked, his frame rattling in irritation at the invasion of privacy. 

“Instead of talking, rest,” Ratchet’s tone was firm.

Ratchet had a point and TreadFlex could feel his systems dragging him back into recharge. For a moment, he wondered if it was Ratchet forcing him to rest, but he wasn’t going to complain. He needed the recharge and welcomed it.

 

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

 

“Megatron.”

Blinking, the former warlord looked to Perceptor before he shoved the large piece of the wall away. He stood to his full height and then brushed off the dust that had landed on him.

“Has Drift settled down?” Megatron asked.

“No,” Perceptor shook his helm, “he’s still running about the ship, but I didn’t come here to talk about him.”

Megatron rose an optic ridge at the scientist.

“We’ve found something,” he said, “I think you should see it.”

Intrigued, Megatron gestured for the small mech to take the lead. The scientist cast a worried glance before he turned and led Megatron down a somewhat clean hallway. There was a moment of silence, neither awkward or forced, between them as they padded down that hall. Perceptor made a sound; clearing his throat maybe before he looked to Megatron.

“I am unsure what it is,” Perceptor spoke up, “You are the acting captain of this ship now. I hope you know what it is.”

Megatron rose an optics ridge as he looked the scientist when he realized Perceptor had his rifle with him. The news of Rodimus’ demise in the bridge did not hit him as hard as it did with others. While Megatron wasn‘t proud of what he did, he ended the threat that nearly torn the ship apart.

“Whatever it is… it’s strong. Strong enough to rip holes in the frame of the ship,” Perceptor continued when Megatron didn’t respond.

Megatron did not know how to respond until they turned the corner and came across the ruptured spacing in the wall. The former warlord quickly began to think of anything that was strong enough to make a hole this size in a ship.

“I can only imagine what Rodimus had on this ship,” Megatron rumbled as he stepped towards the entrance, lowering himself peek inside. “Did you see anything in there?”

“Biolights of some kind,” Perceptor replied, his optics shifting to his rifle as he readied it. “Something’s alive in there.”

Megatron hummed in thought, his optics readjusting themselves to the darkness. Deep inside, he could hear something shift and make strange chitters and clicks. Perceptor seemed nervous as his optics shifted from his rifle to the hole and then to Megatron. Thinking, Megatron stepped back, a digit on his chin.

“Do you have an idea of what it is?” Perceptor asked. 

_If I can remember._ Megatron’s optics flickered in thought. He glanced back to the hole again, listening to the strange chitters that came from within. The more he listened the more he remembered.

_Ah, I see._

“An Insecticon,” Megatron spoke up, a smile appearing on his faceplates.

Perceptor blinked in response. “An Insecticon? Are you certain?”

“Quite,” Megatron confirmed as he stepped back. “If it’s indeed an Inseciticon, they’re going to be hungry.”

Perceptor nodded. “Get some Energon. Got it.”

Megatron took a step away as Perceptor turned and padded to the closet Energon storage, which was only a hallway away. 

_Did it try to get to the storage?_ Megatron wondered as he turned back to the hole. _Why would Rodimus have an Insecticon onboard?_

It wasn‘t strange for Rodimus to let any and all on his ship and since Overlord, Rodimus was known to smuggle different objects on board.

_Did he smuggle this Insecticon?_ Megatron wondered, turning his helm to where he could see Perceptor padding over to him, Energon cubes in his arms. The silver mech watched the scientist place the cubes down, though he turned when the chittering grew louder. Megatron drew closer, much to Perceptor’s protest‘s and bent to see inside once more.

“Hello,” the former warlord called, “We have Energon for you if you‘re in need of a refuel.”

He could hear movement from within and the silver mech backed up as the Insecticon began to reveal itself. It made a few nervous clicks at the two mechs before it turned its attention to the Energon cubes. Megatron watched interest as the Insecticon devoured the cubes in a matter of seconds. 

Perceptor joined Megatron’s side the Insecticon looked them both, optics blinking in recognition of their services. Megatron gave a faint smiled as straight himself.

“Hello there,” he spoke, “I am Megatron, captain of the Lost Light. Mind telling me who you are?”

The Insecticon tilted it’s helm, before it’s frame morphed, transforming. Megatron watched silence, taking in the sight as the beast stared down at him from its full height.

“Thank you for giving me the Energon,” the Insecticon spoke in a polite tone.

“My name is Blight.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Drift.”

The white speedster didn’t bat an optic back at the other mech that had called his name. The orange-and-white mech looked to Brainstorm, who per Perceptor’s orders, stayed with him.

“Drift please, what are you looking for?” Brainstorm continued.

“You know damn well who I’m looking for,” Drift replied.

Rung and Brainstorm looked at each other. They both knew Drift saw his amica’s body, they both knew Rodimus was gone, and they both knew Drift was probably in denial.

“Drift, Rodimus is gone,” It hurt to say those words, but Drift needed to accept that, “I don’t think-”

“I can feel his presence!” Drift spat, turning on them suddenly. “His frame may not be here, but his aura is! He is still lingering!”

  
Rung knew this was hard for the white speedster, it never was when losing a friend. Drift was irate and Rung didn’t believe that disagreeing with him was a good idea. 

“Are you following him?” Rung asked. 

Drift’s blue optics moved towards him, the look on his faceplates seemed hesitant, but slowly, the mech nodded. Rung then padded forward, Brainstorm sighing. Rung was no scientist, but it was not hard to figure out that Brainstorm didn’t believe in any of this. Rung didn’t either but helping a friend was more important than beliefs. 

“Lead the way Drift, you’re the one who can sense him,” Rung told him as he stopped at the speedster’s side.

Drift didn’t need to be told twice, he spun on his pedes and swiftly padded away, Rung and Brainstorm following after.

 

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

 

 _Blight._ Megatron thought, his optics studying the Insecticon. _A femme._ The former warlord had many questions, though Blight seemed to already know what he was thinking.

“You are wondering where I came from,” Blight spoke, tilting her helm to look at both of them. “Though… Isn’t Rodimus the captain of this ship…?”

It surprised Megatron when he heard the name, but he already had the feeling that Rodimus had something to do with this Insecticon.

“He was,” Megatron replied. “Unfortunately, he isn’t with us.”

Blight was silent, though Megatron could see the emotion in her optics. 

“I see,” Blight said, “I remember him offering me refuge here and I chose to stay hidden. He came by every day with Energon... He stopped coming by a few weeks ago.”

 _Weeks ago…_ Megatron shifted in thought. _Primus, she may have been starving_.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Megatron dipped his helm, “You don’t need to remain hidden any longer if you wish. This ship is filled with outcasts, you’ll fit in.”

Blight made a chittering noise as she stood straight. “That sounds nice.”

Just as Megatron would speak more, Perceptor stepped forward, helmed turned towards Megatron. His gaze told Megatron that the scientist was unsure.

“Brainstorm has been updating me on Drift’s actions,” Perceptor said, “Seems they have _found_ Rodimus.”

Megatron frowned. “Do you know where they are?”

  
“I do,” Perceptor replied, his optics shifting. “However, Brainstorm is saying that the scanner he has is showing that something is coming towards the Lost Light. I believe this new visitor is more important as we don’t know what it is.”

Megatron sighed. “One problem after another. Perceptor takes a group and contact with this visitor. I will deal with Drift.”

Perceptor nodded and immediately turned away.

“Shall I come along?” Blight questioned, the femme stepping forward as soon as Perceptor was gone.

Megatron looked up at her and then nodded. “If you wish, then I will not stop you.”

“I wish so,” Blight replied. 

Megatron nodded. “Follow me then.”

 

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

 

“Thank you Trooper,” TreadFlex smiled as his amica propped himself on the berth with him. “I really need this.”

“Lucky for you, I am willing to help,” the minibot replied, settling the Energon cube in TreadFlex’s servos, “Ratchet told me you are good to move, but with limited motion.”

Annoyed that Ratchet didn’t tell him that, TreadFlex scoffed. 

“I am not allowed to know what’s up with my frame?”

The minibot chuckled as he helped the larger mech move the cube. “Ratchet knows that you are reckless, that is why he told me. I’m supposed to help, not let you pull some crazy stunts.”

“At least the stunts I do are like, totally awesome.”

“Yes, but you’ve nearly offlined with a few of them,” Trooper huffed. “I am your Amica Endure. I am supposed to be your friend, not your carrier. So drink your Energon and rest some more.”

TreadFlex hummed as he sipped at the cube. Trooper had a point. TreadFlex was reckless. While Trooper would make for a good carrier, TreadFlex was not a sparkling.

As TreadFlex enjoyed his fuel, his thoughts drifted to how he was feeling. His spark had stung the moment he woke up, his frame was aching and just feeling quite miserable. Though now that Trooper had come and offered to help, he felt much better now that his amica was close. The mech felt like he could take on an army, though he snorted at the picture that appeared in his processor.

“You feeling all right?” Trooper asked, his visor lighting up in worry.

“I am fine Trooper,” TreadFlex replied. “Feeling quite strong actually.”

Trooper snorted. “Strong? Friendly reminder, your legs have lost their plating as well as your back. Are you sure you’re fine?”

  
TreadFlex pushed his emotions into the bond that they share, showing the minibot that he truly felt strong. Trooper seemed to lean into the feeling and just purred. 

“Always have to prove me wrong, don’t you?”

“Love you,” TreadFlex chuckled.

The red speedster could almost feel the optic roll that Trooper no doubt had done. TreadFlex just laughed. Though the happy bubble they had created popped when Megatron stepped into the medical bay, followed by Rung, Drift and a newcomer. 

“An Insecticon?” Trooper observed as the minibot shifted.

The word left a hollow pit deep within TreadFlex as the mech watched the Insecticon look about the room. TreadFlex then sat up ever so slightly when he noticed the strange behavior in his fellow speedster.

“Where is he?” Megatron questioned Drift as the white mech went around the room.

TreadFlex felt strange the moment Drift’s optics landed on him.

“There,” Drift said. 

Red optics moved to him and TreadFlex just had to point to himself. 

“ _Him_? Are you sure?” Megatron questioned.

TreadFlex wasn’t sure if those words were a question or accusation. Drift said nothing, though he nodded and stepped away, his optics guarded and full of unacceptance. TreadFlex suddenly didn’t feel that good when Megatron strode towards him.

“Drift senses Rodimus in you,” Megatron said, a hint of doubt in his voice. 

 _Rodimus?_ TreadFlex wasn’t quite sure if he followed. Confusion swirled around in his field and he felt Trooper shift beside him.

“I’m sorry, what?”

He felt a tiny servo take ahold of his, TreadFlex’s wings flaring up as he narrowed his optics at Megatron.

“This isn’t a good time, sir,” Trooper spoke up, “He should be resting and you’re confusing him. Maybe come back-”

“Show me your spark.”

Immediately, TreadFlex covered his chestplating, his optics wide. _How dare he ask something like that!_

“Absolutely not,” Trooper spoke up, “That is an invasion of privacy.”

“That is not a question, that is an order,” Red optics flared at the minibot and TreadFlex didn’t like it.

“Clear the room then,” Ratchet’s voice cut in, the large mech moving towards them.

No words needed to be said, the bots not associated with this left, leaving TreadFlex in a very uncomfortable position with five other mechs. He could feel Trooper trying to comfort him through their bond, but the big red mech was nervous. 

“TreadFlex,” Megatron spoke up, “You can open up.”

TreadFlex stared at the former warlord before he drew in a long breath. He sent the command to his chest; The plating shifting away to reveal his spark chamber. He could feel Trooper’s surprise in their bond and saw everyone’s optics widen. 

“What…?” TreadFlex shifted to peer at his chest.

There, sitting in his chest was the Matrix. The Matrix of Leadership.

**Author's Note:**

> For The_Transformers_of_Cybertron


End file.
